The Bodyguard
by peroxidepest17
Summary: As the public face of the Kuchiki Group, Byakuya needs a bodyguard. What he gets is a hell hound.


**Title:** The Bodyguard  
**Universe: **Bleach (Yakuza AU?)  
**Theme/Topic: **N/A**  
Rating:** PG-13  
**Character/Pairing/s:** lightly KenpachixByakuya (appearances by Renji, Yachiru, Rukia, Ichigo, and Kuchiki Ginrei)  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** None I can imagine.  
**Word Count:** 3,745  
**Su****mmary:** As the public face of the Kuchiki Group, Byakuya needs a bodyguard. What he gets is a hell hound.  
**Dedication:** way too self-indulgent to even consider.  
**A/N:** IDEK I just wanted a yakuza AU where Byakuya and Kenpachi love to hate each other a lot. IGNORE ME CLEARLY THIS IS JUST POINTLESS FANSERVICE I GUESS. KENPACHI AND BYAKUYA IN SUITS YES. That is clearly all the justification I could ever want ok.  
**Disclaimer:** No harm or infringement intended.

* * *

The attack itself is nothing of note.

Kuchiki Byakuya is sitting in the backseat of his company car comparing the figures on their quarterly earnings statement when the driver pulls up to a stoplight.

From there the car's windows are smashed in, the doors are forced open, and several men of ill-repute scatter the file folders sitting on the seat beside Byakuya as they yank him out of the car.

Byakuya frowns because it had taken Renji _hours_ to organize those files.

He lets them pull him out of the car, knife at his throat.

"Either kill me or let me finish my work," are the first words he says.

The attackers blink. "Shut up?" one says, and the question mark just makes Byakuya even more unimpressed. No one takes pride in their work anymore.

He lashes out with a foot. They are hard pressed to use their knives.

He has the advantage of knowing that he is worth absolutely _nothing_ to them if he's dead.

Byakuya gets back into his company car five minutes and twenty-eight seconds after the attack begins.

He is late to work by two minutes after that, and knowing that is the worst part of his day.

Other than that, he doesn't really think about what happened anymore.

* * *

Kuchiki Ginrei hears about it.

And he thinks about it a lot (a lot more than Byakuya does, in any case).

Byakuya's grandfather has always said that deterring an opponent from a fight is the same as defeating that opponent in a fight. The only difference is that in one of those options, no blood need be shed first.

This is a simplified form of some ancient words of wisdom, Byakuya knows; he also knows that his grandfather's advice has always been universally accepted as truth and intelligence and that those who follow it will receive both longevity and prosperity in their endeavors as a result of their diligence.

That does not mean, of course, that Byakuya has to _like_ these words of truth and intelligence, especially not given the current circumstances under which they are being applied.

"Grandfather," the young businessman begins carefully, hoping that the grave respect in his tone will be enough to drown out the slight tinge of petulance that is also there, "while I am grateful for the family's concern for my everyday well-being, I feel the need to remind you—as well as Yamamoto-sama— that I am the last person in this family— or any of the thirteen families— who requires a bodyguard."

It is true; Byakuya is the Kuchiki clan's most accomplished kendoist in generations. In high school he had also been ranked nationally in judo exactly as he had been ranked nationally on all of his other exams. Number one.

He does not want a bodyguard. More importantly, he does not _need_ a bodyguard.

Despite the practiced gravity in Byakuya's voice, Kuchiki Ginrei hears the slight pout in his grandson's tone all the same; he looks down at the clan's heir with a gentle sort of patience that has been honed by many years practicing the Way of the Sword. His is an understanding that cuts, sharper than most blades and twice as quick. "Byakuya," he says, voice amused, "Neither Yamamoto-sama nor I are so old that we have forgotten how proficient you are in a fight. The fault does not lie there, young man, so do not attempt to place it there. Rather, I will remind you that you are young, and that this is probably the reason why you have forgotten that avoiding some battles is the same as emerging victorious from them."

Byakuya's jaw tightens at the gentle reprimand. He keeps his head bowed and refrains from arguing out loud that he does remember, he just disagrees in this case.

"Yamamoto-sama is wiser than us all," his grandfather continues, with the hint of a smirk. "And I am sure the mere sight of the man he is sending from his compound to act as your keeper will deter many an attacker from making an attempt on your life. Consider it a very long string of bloodless victories in your name." Pause. "And graciously afford this helpless old man some peace of mind, if you please."

Byakuya slowly raises his head at those words, which are as good as (if not better than) a killing blow. He sighs. "As you wish, grandfather."

A full blown grin then. "Very good. Now, will you call Rukia in so that I can give her the same lecture, or will you save me the trouble and tell her to buck up for me first?"

Byakuya sighs and promises to speak to his sister before their new security detail arrives the next morning. Then he stands and takes his leave so that he may see Rukia off to school before returning to his office to see about those trade negotiations with China and the conference call with England.

* * *

While Kurosaki Ichigo looks and sounds like a buffoon, Byakuya grudgingly admits that the boy seems to at least have enough sense to know when to keep quiet and do his job.

Which isn't to say that Byakuya _approves_ of the scowling young man with the orange hair. As a general rule, Byakuya will never approve of any teenage boy spending every waking moment at his little sister's side, whether his purpose is to protect her from potential threats or not. He rather sees this as something akin to leaving a pack of feral wolves to guard the henhouse from the foxes.

However, Kurosaki Ichigo is infinitely preferable to the enormous, spiky-haired hulk currently looming over Byakuya's shoulder like a curse.

As if sensing his thoughts, Zaraki Kenpachi grins at him and slips— silent as a shadow despite his size— directly behind Byakuya. There is a distant tinkling of bells in the Kuchiki heir's ear.

"You sure walk pretty," Zaraki breathes after a moment, sounding very, very close.

But when Byakuya turns his head the monster is actually several steps away, looking completely at ease in his sharply pressed suit as the company car pulls around the front of the Kuchiki compound. "Excuse me?" Byakuya asks, voice as cutting as a chill wind.

Zaraki just chuckles like he relishes the sudden cold in the air and moves to deftly open the door for his new charge. "I said, you sure walk pretty. I mean, I would have expected a limp or something, from that giant pole that's shoved up your ass. Guess you must have learned to work around it."

Byakuya glowers and wordlessly slides into the backseat.

He decides that not only is Zaraki Kenpachi unnecessary, but also that he does not like Zaraki Kenpachi.

* * *

As the public image of the Camellia Corp and all of the Kuchiki's legitimate business dealings, there are certain events that he is obligated to attend that require a certain amount of social etiquettes. Most of the time these social etiquettes revolve around drinking.

As such Byakuya is capable of having a social drink to seal a deal or cement a friendship, but as a rule, he isn't one who enjoys becoming inebriated and takes great pains to avoid it at all costs.

It is how he knows that things aren't exactly as they seem right at this moment; the restaurant's private dining room is suddenly too bright and too warm, almost unreal. It grows fuzzy around the edges the more he tries to study what about it seems off and before long, the sounds start to stretch and distort and blur together until he can no longer discern where they're coming from. He blinks and takes a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself, and the several business associates with whom he is supping pause to look at him, to laugh and say he must have had a little too much to drink for once.

The young often take on more than they can handle, after all.

Byakuya knows that he has not; he has made it a priority to always know his own strengths and weaknesses better than anyone else. Two drinks are hardly enough to make him feel warm, let alone drunk. Not unless something was added to his sake to help him along his way, of course.

His head starts to dip forward and he shakes his head, blearily. Around him, the representatives from King Industries laugh and start to get a little too handsy, a little too jocular, a little too overwhelming.

He attempts to speak, to excuse himself, to excuse them, but before he can, he finds himself falling forward, eyes fluttering closed.

The restaurant's door exploding inward is the last thing he remembers.

* * *

He wakes up to Rukia's wide, silent gaze at his bedside.

"Niisama," she murmurs, when his eyes open. The sound of her voice makes him wince, the light makes him close his eyes again.

His sister is instantly repentant. "Should I call the doctor?" she breathes, voice carefully low. There is a shaky, tired quality to her expression that makes him relax a little, makes him fight back a smile.

"No," he answers, voice a bit raspy. "I'd just like to sleep, if it's all the same."

She nods quickly and gets out of her chair, watching him with a small frown as she backs out of the room. "Sleep well."

He moves to thank her, but before he can, the door closes behind her and she's gone.

He sighs and turns on his side.

"She's cute," a voice cuts in, and makes the blood in his veins go cold. "Likes you a little bit too much though. Maybe she don't know you like I know you."

His eyes snap open again and he sits up. The quickness of the motion makes him dizzy, but he manages to hide it well enough, glaring into the shadows along the far side of his bed chambers.

Zaraki melts out of them nonchalantly, wiping his hands clean with a white handkerchief. Red blood comes off of his fingers and stains the cloth. He looks casual and relaxed, amused even, as per usual.

"What happened?" Byakuya demands, and is pleased when his voice comes out solid this time, authoritative.

Zaraki doesn't seem to notice. "Should watch what you drink, princess. Your little friends at King Trading might have gotten to personally go treasure huntin' for that stick up your ass if I hadn't gotten bored waiting outside," is all he says.

Byakuya scowls. "I realize I was drugged. For what purpose? What did they want?"

Zaraki grins. "In the process of finding that out, actually. Me'n your 'business associates' are having a nice little chat." He gestures to the bloodstained handkerchief like it should explain everything. Byakuya belatedly recognizes that the blood he'd been cleaning from his hands was not his own. "Just thought I'd take a break and pop on in, see how you were doing." Pause. "Which is pretty shitty, from the looks of things."

Byakuya realizes that he is swaying slightly in his efforts to stay upright. He doesn't let himself be embarrassed at getting caught; he's beginning to learn that for only having one eye, Zaraki seems to see a lot more than most other people do. "Get me results," he growls at the larger man, bracing himself on the mattress.

A snort. "Get some sleep," Zaraki shoots back, unmoved by his charge's bravado. He drops the bloodied handkerchief on the edge of the nightstand before fading into the dark again.

Byakuya settles back into the sheets and still doesn't like Zaraki Kenpachi.

He is, however, proficient at his job.

* * *

They have started to call him Kuchiki's pet wolf.

Byakuya seems to be the only one who understands that Zaraki does not, in fact, work _for_ him, that he would just as soon take Byakuya's head off himself if he thought it would mean getting to engage in more and more interesting fisticuffs.

He watches Zaraki slam the heads of two assassins together with an audible _crack _in the background, a smile on his face, laughter on his breath, and blood all over the front of his very expensive suit.

Byakuya sighs and returns to his paperwork for the time being, and notes that despite all of the chaos currently surrounding the latest attempt to take down the Kuchiki, Zaraki Kenpachi barely seems to care that Byakuya is even _there_.

Byakuya knows that Zaraki Kenpachi only does as instructed when it _suits him_.

It just happens that guarding Kuchiki Byakuya affords many opportunities to do the things that suit him just fine.

Byakuya lives knowing full well that any minute now, Zaraki Kenpachi could turn on him. Neither of them has ever had any reason to believe otherwise.

In a way, Byakuya is strangely grateful to know this.

It's difficult to find that kind of honesty in this day and age.

* * *

Byakuya meets Yachiru quite by accident one day, as he is preparing to go to work one morning, amidst the chaotic sounds of Rukia shouting insults at Kurosaki down the hallway.

The intruder alarms suddenly go off without warning, plunging the house into a flurry of activity as the Kuchiki clan members rush to defensive stations, as Rukia's string of profanities is muffled by the sound of Kurosaki finally speaking up over her to say, "Woman, shut up and _get under the damn bed_!"

Zaraki materializes at Byakuya's shoulder before the second bell can finish ringing and takes his charge by the arm.

He wordlessly pulls Byakuya towards the closet, earning a muffled protest. "I don't…"

Before he can finish, the door bursts open without warning and Byakuya feels it when he is thrown behind Zaraki's great bulk, practically into the wall.

A tiny shadow darts through the open doorway a moment later, going too fast to see properly, and barrels right into Zaraki's chest.

It is the first time in the months that they have known each other that Kuchiki Byakuya sees a look of surprise flitter across Zaraki's terrifying features.

Byakuya braces himself for a meltdown.

"Ken-chan, I missed you!" a young girl's voice suddenly chirps, just as fifteen armed Kuchiki clan members burst through the door, pointing their weapons straight at the small, seemingly harmless form in Zaraki's arms.

Zaraki sighs. "Dammit, Yachiru, what the fuck are you doing?"

Byakuya blinks as the interloper pokes her head out to reveal a young, pink-haired girl, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and looking completely harmless in a grade-school seifuku and raincoat.

"Sir, is everything okay?" one of those fifteen armed Kuchiki clan members poses after a second, sounding nervous as he watches Zaraki grab the intruder by the back of her shirt and suspend her in the air like a particularly annoying housecat.

"Put the damned guns down and get the hell outta here. False alarm, idiots," Zaraki barks at them, and Byakuya is too surprised to be perturbed when the men follow his orders without hesitation. The door closes behind them and the alarms finally die down.

Zaraki reaches out and flicks the little girl's nose. "Ain't you supposed to be in school?"

Yachiru pouts and holds her abused nose. "I'm goin'! I just wanted to see you, 's all," she whines at him. "I haven't seen you in _forever_."

"Yeah 'cuz I'm workin', dumbass," he grumbles back, and Byakuya can't tear his eyes away from the pair, arguing in the middle of his bedroom while the other members of the house wander around in confusion out in the hallways.

She doesn't seem to be buying his explanation. "You don't gotta work all day every day, do you? Even Yama-jii doesn't do that!"

The face Zaraki makes at her reasoning almost makes Byakuya laugh. Not many things do that.

"Okay, you've seen me now. Get to school, before Yama-jii decides it ain't worth paying for you to go anymore, stupid idiot."

Yachiru pouts and flings her arms around his neck. "Seein' you for less than five minutes doesn't count. At least take me to school yourself! It was hard work breakin' outta Yama-jii's house and getting in here, you know. I had to knock out like, five guys!"

Zaraki doesn't seem impressed. "If you're complainin' about five measly guys that means you aren't practicing anything I taught you, brat."

She squirms. "No one lets me practice anythin' but my diction in that house," she mutters at him. "When are you comin' back, Ken-chan?"

"Never. Adults gotta work. And kids gotta go to school." He sets her down on the ground none too gently and glowers down at her. "So tell me why the hell I'm bustin' my ass working this shit job so you can afford to go to school and you ain't even going?"

Byakuya has seen that glower take apart leaders in the criminal underworld and professional businessmen at the negotiating table alike.

Yachiru seems unimpressed. She crosses her arms right back and glowers up at him in return. "You're a meanie-head!"

Zaraki snorts. "And you're gonna be a dumbass if you don't go to school."

They reach an impasse. It is full of glaring.

After a moment, Byakuya tentatively clears his throat. "Would it be alright," Byakuya begins, patiently, "if we took you to school today?"

Yachiru lights up at the offer, noticing Byakuya for the first time since her arrival. "I like you!" she decides, quite firmly.

Zaraki looks put out to hear that. "Fuckin' great." He sighs, before he grabs Yachiru by the collar again and hoists her up onto his shoulder, looking as helpless as Byakuya has ever seen. "Just this once. And don't make a habit of it, or I'll beat the shit out of you."

Yachiru grabs handfuls of his spikes and looks like the happiest (most terrifying) child in the world. "Yay, Ken-chan is the best!" she cheers.

Byakuya follows them out of the room, reminding himself that even wolves are gentle with their young.

* * *

"Your daughter?" Byakuya asks a little while later, after they have dropped Yachiru off at her grade school and made their way through the morning traffic and the spring rains.

Zaraki snorts. "No."

A frown. "Sister, then?"

"Stray dog," Zaraki answers after a beat. "She'n me are just a coupla stray dogs."

Byakuya wants to ask what that means, but the look Zaraki shoots him tells him it's the end of the conversation.

They get to the office in silence ten minutes later and Zaraki seems to be in a more violent mood than normal for the rest of the day.

Byakuya wonders.

* * *

Yachiru likes Byakuya.

Byakuya, he finds, also likes Yachiru.

She calls him Byakushi and despite her bad habit of beating up the perimeter guards to get in, is as sweet and friendly and precocious as any girl her age ought to be; she reminds him a lot of Rukia, when she had first arrived here.

There is the added bonus that Zaraki hates that they like each other.

"Byakushi," Yachiru murmurs one afternoon, as they sit in the backyard under the sakura trees and she eats the family out of house and home, "do you think Ken-chan is sick of me?"

Byakuya blinks. "Of course not."

"Then how come he don't ever want to see me?"

Byakuya frowns. "That's…complicated," he begins.

She turns wide-eyes on him, full of questions. "Why?"

Byakuya puts his teacup down. "I'm not sure. We could ask him."

They both turn equally questioning eyes to Zaraki, who is very pointedly sitting _over there_ while "you two ladies have your little tea party."

Zaraki absolutely glowers back at them both. "Don't talk to me," he growls, and crosses his arms menacingly.

Yachiru sniffs at him—unimpressed—and Byakuya finds himself very valiantly having to hold back a chuckle.

"Wipe that smug look off your face, princess," Zaraki demands, when he sees.

Byakuya decides to just go ahead and laugh then, and before long, Yachiru joins him because "Ken-chan is making a weird face!"

Their afternoon is peaceful like that, and Byakuya begins to learn that perhaps, on occasion, Zaraki lets his bark be worse than his bite.

* * *

They still call him Byakuya's pet wolf.

"Why not?" Renji shrugs, when the issue comes up again years later. "Likes hunting, howls at the moon, probably has fleas…"

Byakuya gives him a look of reproof.

Renji grins. "And he sleeps at the foot of your bed and comes when you call him."

Byakuya clears his throat and looks resolutely at his papers, managing to hide the small upward curl of his lip when he sees a familiar shadow materialize behind Renji.

"Morning, pup," Zaraki greets, voice smug and full of dark and horrible promises.

Renji freezes. "Z-Z-Zaraki-san!" he chokes, though admirably, keeps from jumping. "Good morning, sir!"

Zaraki grins hugely, showing teeth.

And then he reaches out with one impossibly large hand and picks Renji up by the scruff of his neck.

"Zaraki," Byakuya warns, not looking up from the latest trade agreement.

Zaraki ignores him and tosses Renji out of the office.

Renji squawks as he hits the ground and Zaraki looks pleased with himself. He pads silently towards Byakuya's desk.

"Sit," Byakuya attempts optimistically, when he feels the hairs on the back of his neck prickle at the other man's proximity.

Zaraki snorts. "That's cute," he says, and reaches out to pull Byakuya to his feet by his tie. "C'mon, Yachiru's gonna have my head for breakfast if we miss her festival thing."

Byakuya sighs and acquiesces, leaving the contracts on the table. "Her class was doing the haunted house?" he asks, as he begins to pack up his things.

Zaraki snorts. "Apparently she wanted to be a death god or somethin' stupid like that."

Byakuya _hmmms_ softly and picks up his briefcase, before handing it to Zaraki like it is a matter of absolutely zero consequence. "I'm sure she will be very convincing."

Zaraki perfunctorily takes the briefcase and tucks it under his arm. It had taken many, many years for Byakuya to perfect this trick.

"Whatever," Zaraki grunts, looking only vaguely put out when Byakuya reaches up to adjust his crooked tie for him. "Lunch is on you, right?"

Byakuya looks thoughtful while he readjusts his own tie to its previously perfect state. "Perhaps," he says after a moment, and then turns to leave.

He manages not to smirk openly to himself when Zaraki heels him out of the office.

**END **


End file.
